A School Romance
by JamesAnon
Summary: When the boys first met in boarding school. Rated M for future chapters. There is not enough love for this pairing, so I thought I would supply.
1. Chapter 1

_St Jacobs School for Boys, the most prominent and well renowned school in Britain, with a fine reputation in Europe also. You should all be very proud to attend here, and I would hope that you will all behave in a manner befitting this fine establishment. Built in-….._

The young Phantomhive had successfully zoned out the man's droning at this point. He became nothing more than a faint buzzing at the back of his mind, as he glanced around at all the other first years staring with avid attention. A little noise escaped his lips as he shook his head. Boring…

The large hall they stood in was warm and stuffy, a faint smell of perspiration and pipe smoke that seemed to cling to the air around him, tendrils encircling his nose and mouth, a dull pang of panic as a blanket of claustrophobia descended over him. Shifting the weight between his feet, he gave a small cough, breaking through the silence. No one seemed to take any notice of him, except one boy. His head shot up at the sound, a frown on his thin face as he turned around to seek out the creator of the disturbance.

Vincent stared back at him, hand over his mouth. Dark blue eyes narrowed at this stranger, figuring his expression to be disapproval, he coughed again, louder this time. He couldn't help it. This boy seemed to challenge him, and the young Phantomhive was quick to fight. There was immediate tension between the two, bristling so strongly, it was surprising that it did not manifest itself like bolts of electricity spiralling through the muggy air. Vincent smirked at him, as he lowered his hand. The boy gave a small roll of his eyes and turned his attention back to the droning sound of the headmaster, who was now going through a long list of all the famous past pupils of school.

The rooms were given out, names shouted over the babble of boys talking, along with a room number. "Deiderich. Vincent. 304"

Vincent arrived in the room, his roommate was already there. He couldn't believe it, it was that guy from earlier. Perfect, he was stuck in the room with the goody two shoes.

"Hello, I'm Vincent Phantomhive! Who are you?" He declared his name with obvious pride, assuming the boy would have already heard of his family. Most people had, and were normally quick to praise his fathers work in glowing terms. Vincent wasn't really sure why, considering all he did was run some kind of company.

"Oh…I'm Deiderich. It is a pleasure to meet you." he spoke with a thick cultured accent, that made Vincent automatically lean forward in an attempt to understand him. It was a nice way of speaking though, the words seemed to roll off his tongue like honey. There was a long awkward pause as Deiderich did not offer up anymore words of greeting, and began to solemnly unpack his bag. He seemed to be avoiding the young earl's eyes,

"_Oh great…" _Vincent thought, throwing himself down on his bed, testing the softness. _"Looks like school is going to be great fun…" _Without another word, he turned his back on him, scowling about his bad luck.


	2. Chapter 2

**This is the second chapter of my Vincent/Deiderich fanfiction. I havnt written anything like this in ages, so please forgive me that the chapters are a little short. I still have to figure these characters out properly. **

It was not a pleasant few months as the two boys slowly discovered that they were about as different as chalk and cheese. Vincent, used to the lavish life of a Noble's son, took to throwing his clothes and belongings all over the room, declaring in shocked and disgusted tones when they were not picked up the next morning. "Honestly! Do they not have maids in this place? Do they know who I am?" Childish arrogance gave the young Vincent his swagger, as he took to lying on his bed, loudly complaining about everything, in an obnoxious tone to his roommate, the only person who would listen.

Deiderich, a boy raised in a strict military household, was small, skinny, and neat as a pin. His soft hair was always combed in the same severe style, his few possessions brought from home were lined up in perfect lines on the small desk he had. He was not shy, but seemed to be of the school of thought that why use ten words, when your meaning can be just as easily portrayed in four. Vincent drove him completely mad! His incessant chatter, his mess, the strange oil he insisted on using in his hair because that's his father uses and made their room smell like a barbers shop, it was infuriating. Why couldn't he just shut up?

These words were screamed at the boy across the room, followed closely by a shoe that Deiderich had been attempting to put on his foot. "You are so irritating Phantomhive! I have heard this story about your damn father about five times already! Just shut up!"

The springs on the old bed sang out as the Young Noble leapt off his bed "Don't you dare be rude about my father you stupid little-"

"Don't call me stupid! At least I know how to clean up after myself! This room is filthy! Clean up after yourself you English pig!"

A door slamming promptly ended the argument, as Vincent stormed out of the room, stomping down the stairs to write a whiny letter home to his father about the annoying roommate, the terrible food, and how much he wanted to come home. He found a spot, on the window ledge, tucked behind some curtains. Pulling his knees up, he scowled out the window, a small wave of homesickness creeping over him. Why did he have to stay in that room with that boy, he was mean and cruel...it was not fair.

_If they kept making me stay there with him, I...I will run away._

_I hate it here._


End file.
